Scratch beginings: Me, $25 and the American Dream

In a book review mood these days!

Written by relative stranger to the writing world, Adam Shepard takes a sociological experiment and writes about his experiences with it. He is not a trained writer, but he is a keen observer and clever fellow, had a university degree and some ambition. He states that he was inspired by 'Nickel and Dimed' by Barbara Ehrenreich, and wanted to 'prove' her wrong.

The premise of the story is he drops himself into a city with the clothes on his back, $25 in his pocket, a tarp and a duffel bag. He then must make $2500, find an apartment and a job within 365 days. Tall order, but he wants to see if it is possible go to from rags, to slightly nicer rags. He cannot use his degree or connections at all. Nobody knows him or his education, he starts on ground zero but without a drug addiction.

I liked this book. It's a little disingenuious, as the author tends to focus hard on the positives and ignore the gritty underside that would make this book even more fascinating. It reminds me of immersion journalism like 'Black Like Me' by John Howard Griffin but with less...texture.

He lives in a homeless shelter, had a rough time getting a job, gets a job, and even then it's not all smooth sailing. Unfair job conditions, illnesses and a broken toe plague Shepard in his journey. He shows the benefits that down on their luck people have, but he also shows how truly hard it is to 'pull yourself up by your bootstraps' when you suffer from addiction, illnesses, mental illness or injury. It's not always easy and poverty will always exist.

What I wanted to see was a bit more detail about his early life in his journey. He skims over the difficulties, like fights, stabbings, addiction problems. It's not all cotton candy and fluff, but as a reader we need more depth. There, I said it. The characters aside from the ones he really focuses on are 2-dimensional.

But, Shepard is not a trained writer so we'll cut him some slack. He is very good at showing how the 'blame game' is played with the disenfranchised, particularly when store people hire him and other homeless to hang clothes, and then kick them out at lunchtime instead of inviting them to share the luncheon. They also accuse a worker of stealing when it was clear he had no opportunity to do so, and what homeless man would want baby clothes?

Is poverty really a cycle? It can be for some people, not good at budgeting, addictions, single parents...And for some it is an excuse to not buckle down. Shepard doesn't shy away from the fact that some people are just lazy and can't focus.

In a sad part in the end, Shepard reveals that both his parents have cancer, so his 'experiment' becomes all too real when his mother is unable to support her self & pay for cancer treatments. He leaves his experiment, takes up a job near his mother and must support her as well as himself. This bit of sad truth only shows how real the game has become for him and other Americans.

Feel like something bleak? The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Pulitzer-prize winner Cormac McCarthy, also known for 'All the Pretty Horses' and 'No Country for Old Men' has come out with a post-apocalyptic depresser for all readers. It is very different from Margaret Atwood's 'Oryx and Crake' in that there is no reason for the apocalypse, and all we know is that the entire world (set in USA) is on fire and burning, ash drifts, it is very cold, there is no sun and no warmth. Food is scarece and there are gangs of crazed cannibals that have slaves and keep humans for food replenishment.

It is a very, very bleak novel. It also makes you glad you are alive in this current world, as imperfect as it is. It is also being turned into a movie, so stay tuned! I'm a bit concerned about how awful the movie will be, as there are some scenes in the book that make you glad you aren't watching them.

A man and his son traverse 'the road' a burned highway through the states. They seek the coast for warmth, and maybe the sea will be blue and the sky will be blue, instead of a murky angry grey. They are always starving and the man has some sort of TB and coughs blood on occasion. The man is living for his son and thinks often that if his heart was made of stone, they would be better off. I think the son does think the man's heart is gone, as the man shows no pity to an ancient starving man, and he shoots someone looking for a doctor. The man is concerned only about their survival.

And, rightly so. In a scene (**spoiler**) the man checks out a house, and it has sleeping bags and packs, which was dangerous. The boy is scared. Any people are bad news in this world. The man is curious and desperate for food, so they check out the house further, and he sees a door with a padlock on it. He breaks the padlock off and opens the door, and an incredible stench greets them. There are stairs leading to a basement, he takes the stairs and a horrifying scene plays out. A man missing legs lies moaning on a hideous mattress, naked people scream and beg for help, some missing body parts. The man backpedals and runs away, narrowly missing the cannibals coming back to their lair. They were the cannibals food supply, kept locked in the basement.

In this new world, it seems more merciful to die early, which is what the man's wife does once she realizes there is no way out, and she leaves her son and husband to eke out a miserable existence. There is no help, no salvation and the eternal question of 'God' seems pathetic and useless.

Not an uplifting book but a good one. Pick it up to remind you that your life is truly wonderful.

Restaurants to Avoid, the Edgewater Pub

So far, there are a few restaurants on my 'avoid' list. I just added one recently and this blog is to inform you to avoid it...or risk being disappointed, your choice.

I went to the 'Edgewater' Pub recently, and having been to their very expensive offshoot restaurant in the basement, the 'Cellar' I was expecting something good. Turns out the only thing they really share is maybe a kitchen and insanely exorbitant prices.

Entrees for dinner cost $23++ and that was the cheapest entree. I'm sorry, I am NOT paying upward s of $25 for salmon. Forget it. It's not even encrusted in gold! Not to mention this is a pub, and their pathetically wimpy 'pints' were more like sleeves and friggin overpriced at that-- $6. Sad, really.

The service was terrible, the food served in miniscule portions (seriously, for $11.50 the salad had better be on a PLATE not a teensy cup. Fuck that) do us all a favour, and don't patronise that ridiculous place. I had a seafood salad (tiny) and soup (tiny) didn't taste bad, but for the sky-high prices I was expecting something half-ways filling. Forget that.

Edgewater pub is joining Tony's pizza and Bocelli's pizza in the 'hall of infamy' for incredible suckitude. I will bash and badmouth them as much as I feel, and I will never again go. Pfffft. The entire dinner was a terrible disappointment and I felt like holding my wallet open so they could rob me blind anyways.

Dr. Gabor Mate "When the Body says No"

Went to a great lecture by the venerable Dr. Gabor Mate, author, physician and innovator in the realm of linking spiritual/mental/physical health with ailments.

I feel a particulare resonance with his message of stress afflicting us in physical ways, last year I was hating life when I was commuting 1+hr each way to work. It ate into my time, I hated the bus/skytrain and everything about it, except for my actual job. Eventually I brushed my hair behind my ear and felt a lump on my neck. It worried me, but I thought I had knocked my jaw or something, and didn't press into it. the next day I had another lump, on my neck. I was seriously concerned and got it checked out immediately--the dr. thought it could be mono, or infection or worst-case scenario, lymphoma. That looming spectre of blood cancer scared me shitless.

Got blood tested and it was all good, just an infection. I am never sick. I was never sick before that, and haven't gotten sick since. It was my body rebelling at my phsyical dislike of my current situation and bang-you can't ignore lumps on your neck, ever.

I got lucky. Many people end up with MS, ALS or cancer after a lifetime of suppressing their emotions or hating their situations. Gabor Mate's message was important, but there is no real easy answer rather than 'relax' and 'be less stressed.' Yoga is good, a drink after work is good... but one of the keys I think is to 'let go'. Work stress? You go home and forget it, leave it at work. Family stress? Learn to say NO, feel guilty but rejoice in that guilt b/c it means you are standing up for yourself, for once. (loved that one!)

The good Dr. has books out, "When the body says No" "In the realm of hungry ghosts" "Hang on to your kids" and they're all doing fairly well. He is a deadpan humourist, and a very intelligent human. Read him and absorb some of it--it might save your life!

Orpheus and Eurydice

Through lady luck's smiling fortune, I went to the ballet last Friday night with a friend. She scored tickets (free!) and I happily came along, and as it turns out, fantastic tickets costing $100 for an astounding interpretation of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth.

The ballet is shocking, animalistic, sensual and stripped bare. It is unlike any ballet I have ever seen or are likely to see again. I savour the memory of it, even though it is extremely difficult to describe to those who haven't seen it--it's that tongue-twisting inability to accuractly depict just what was going on.

There is nudity, all the dancers are topless with the exception of gold pasties over their nipples. The women's gold pasties are linked by a single gold chain, an oddly erotic ornament. There is loud screeching, vowel-burning, melting language. The dancers drag words from each other grudgingly. They howl at the audience, they prance like demons.

The dancers are incredibly athletic and exotic, and they lithely display an extended narrative through interpretations of Hades, demons, the angelic figure of Eurydice the tree nymph. The music is doomed, light, fun and frightening in turn.

This ballet by Marie Chouinard even shocked the skeptics in France--it's that good. If you ever get the chance to see it, don't do what one angry viewer did-storm out. Stay, and it just looks silly if you get angry half-way through, the good stuff's already gone! Oh and don't come back to retireve your husband, he was enjoying the culture, something Whitehorse sadly lacks at times.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and isn't currently running at the Arts Centre anymore. What a fantastic season-opener!

Hate Crush-The New Secret Nemesii

http://jezebel.com/5361960/hate-crushes-a-love-story

Inspired by this jezebel story, do you have a person, or group of people who you are absolutely transfixed by? And not in a good way?

I do, but my secret nemesii usually don't fall into that category. The 'hate crushes' are nemesii who you watch obsessively, see what they are eating, what they are wearing, what classes they go to--and you secretly scorn them, their ridiculous party outfits at 11am on a Sunday morning...

Also, people you see on the street only briefly, but you have to watch and see what their story is. Usually you feel superior to them, or you think they feel superior to you--a teetertotter of social discourse.

Who's your hate crush?

Is It Obvious?

Taken from great newsy/feminist website Jezebel: I think it's very interesting, and I'm surprised at how obvious the message is here--why should the victim have to take responsibility for the crime?

Sexual Assault Prevention Tips Guaranteed to Work!
1. Don’t put drugs in people’s drinks in order to control their behavior.
2. When you see someone walking by themselves, leave them alone!
3. If you pull over to help someone with car problems, remember not to assault them!
4. NEVER open an unlocked door or window uninvited.
5. If you are in an elevator and someone else gets in, DON’T ASSAULT THEM!
6. Remember, people go to laundry to do their laundry, do not attempt to molest someone who is alone in a laundry room.
7. USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM! If you are not able to stop yourself from assaulting people, ask a friend to stay with you while you are in public.
8. Always be honest with people! Don’t pretend to be a caring friend in order to gain the trust of someone you want to assault. Consider telling them you plan to assault them. If you don’t communicate your intentions, the other person may take that as a sign that you do not plan to rape them.
9. Don’t forget: you can’t have sex with someone unless they are awake!
10. Carry a whistle! If you are worried you might assault someone "on accident" you can hand it to the person you are with, so they can blow it if you do.

And, ALWAYS REMEMBER: if you didn’t ask permission and then respect the answer the first time, you are commiting a crime- no matter how "into it" others appear to be.

****
Funny how that works, isn't it?

Chinchilla

I saw a funny riff on the iPod character, a black chinchilla with the earbuds. It said, iChew.

And man, they weren't kidding! I had a chinchilla, Maxwell Smart, during a brief time in my childhood, before I left for university and my parents (mom) decided he was too much to look after and gave him away to a petting zoo or something like that.

Max was a terrible chewer. He ate paint off the basement floor, chewed walls, wallpaper, bricks, carpet, wood, cords, everything that wasn't nailed down or was nailed down he chewed to pieces. He was also astoundingly cocky and I once saw him in a near-death leap from the tall Yucca flowerpot onto kitchen tile, clutching a popsicle stick vertically in his teeth. We gasped, and the popsicle stick flicked harmlessly to the side upon landing instead of impailing Max's little lentil brain.

Small-brained, he still outwitted us on many, many occasions. He would scurry into gopher holes, run under cars, hide inside cement bricks, under the barbecue and lick grease off the bottom (made him very sick) and even into the ductwork & heating of our house. That was a funny and exasperating time, he was loose in the vents when a vent cap came off. He had the run of the house all night and we had little chinchilla poops everywhere as evidence. Everytime he saw us, he would race back into an opened vent--my dad finally outsmarted him using raisins and a mop to reach out and block the exposed vent when Max went for the raisins.

Then we read later that too many raisins can poison chinchillas. Max liked eating bizarre and intriguing things. Savoury and sweet were his favourite, like dried vegetables, coffee beans, prunes and raisins.

He had a princely cage, 3 stories with a coffee can (Maxwell's) to sit in on the loft level and a fishbowl to sleep in on his bedroom level. He was difficult to handle so to get him out of his cage we used to remove the fishbowl he was sleeping in (they are nocturnal so sleep all day) and shake him out of it. He hated that, but he was a hisser and a biter normally.

When we cleaned his cage we removed the 3 story part and left the cage bottom, and sometimes Max went for a ride in his fishbowl onto the cement floor. We went through 2 fishbowls that way, with Max in them when they broke. He was fine.

Chinchillas clean themselves by jumping into a rubbermaid of volcanic ash and rolling about, flinging dust everywhere. When they are unwell or can't clean themselves with the dust, their luxurious fur feels greasy and looks it. You don't even wash a chinchilla.

They are brave and foolhardy creatures and live forever. They have a remarkable lifespan and can live for up to 20 years. Max liked to pretend he was a punk 'skater kid, and he would run alongside walls like a skater on a board. They also need lots and lots of exercise outside their cage at night, and without it they resort to stress habits, like fur pulling. Max let us know he needed more playtime and a bigger cage by pulling out his tail fur. Charming.

Chinchillas are definitely challenging pets and incredibly destructive. I wouldn't really recommend them to anyone, as they belong in Peru habitating high up in the volcanic mountains in caves.

Terrible Wedding Cards

Speaking as someone who was recently married and still doesn't give a shit about the whole 'tradition' of it, I went in search of a non-sappy wedding card for a dear relative's upcoming nuptials.

I went to Wal-Mart (so sue me, there's basically nowhere in this town to buy this stuff and Shoppers is just as bad) and the selection was dismal.

First of all, the cards had tacky, simpering sayings and some were implicitly religous, even though there was specifically a 'religous' sayings side. Get back on that side, jeebus! Enough with the 'In God's eyes we are joined in this miracle' or "We gather our loved ones under the eyes of Our Lord' and just plain sappy, "This is a special day for such special people, forever in love" and "Today is the day two become one" UCK.

Then, a noticeable lack of blank-inside cards. Like, none.

The designs were retarded. Boring, cheesy, no fun sparkles or glittery bits, and the one that did have something on it, it was ribbon protruding from the behind of a bride's bustle. WTF?

I picked one with a 'sassy' saying and it is still boring looking for my taste. Overpriced ($4.99 and shitty. Hm)

Word has it that Murdoch's (Gem shop) has good blank cards. Oh well, until next time...

Feel for the Farriers

The farrier came out yesterday to shoe my leased horse, who apparently had never worn shoes before. He trimmed her up fine the other week-too well guess because she was lame and ouchy for pretty much the entire week, so we thought, ah ha, shoes will fix that!

He came out and it even started a fiasco. I had tied her up in the front corrall and taken her best friend horse out to the ring to ride. I cut my ride short (was wearing the wrong shoes due to laziness) and found dear lease horse roaming free in front of the pasture. The farrier and I caught her and tied her up so he could commence shoeing.

We chatted a bit, the horse seemed quite concerned about the nailing sensation into her feet, but is a calm horse, so we didn't worry. She was looking for reasons to spook though, and when some kids ran past, she leapt to the side and knocked the farrier's hoof stand over. That was ok, she was a bit worried.

Foot number one was done, time for foot number two. Her patience, as a horse, was worn completely thin. The farrier's patience, although vast in quantity, also wore thin. She leapt about, causing an absolute ruckus. His dog came racing to the rescue to 'discipline' the bad horse, working my horse up even further. Finally everything calmed down, the farrier pulled the bent nail and started on nail #2. Horse has another full on freakout, leaps into the farrier, knocks him over, his box of supplies, the hoof stand, everything goes flying. The farrier loses more patience, and has a hammer and a loud voice. Horse gets the point, dog leaps into action, it is very chaotic again.

Ok, calmed down, farrier removes nail #2 and goes to put nail #3 in. Horse loses it again, smacks straight into farrier, steps on his foot, makes him absolutely roar with anger. It is very terrifying for all involved. Horse finally calms down, and lets him remove bent nail #3 and put nail #4 on. There are 7 nails in a shoe. Jesus.

Luckily horse gets the point and everyone escapes relatively unscathed. I asked the farrier if they were this bad all the time, he says, "If they were, I would have gotten out of this business a looong time ago." I get the point. He then asks if she has had shoes before. Nope, not to my knowledge. "Explains a lot," he says.

Horse trots out sound, we breathe a big sigh of relief. I wouldn't want to be a farrier, man that is one tough job.

Badvertising Part II

Last I left you, I had some interesting old school ads that were quite horrendous on the 'modern woman' front. These ads are pretty new, and to me, and to a lot of those current with the feminist forefront, are just as bad. An ad with a man in a possessive/aggressive position, the woman lying supine and at his mercy advertising clothing? For who? The wife beater?

Which diet pill works for you? Why isn't a man on this ad also? Why should only women care about their bodies, dissolve into society like thin wraiths. We shouldn't take up much room, apparently.

Don't you know good women are Audrey Hepburn-esque, gamine and tiny. As a smaller person myself, I always make a point to say I 'act like a taller person' and also like to say I'm in training for the Miss Universe competition. Nah, I'm definitely not a champion bodybuilder but I think bulk/muscle training for women is a fantastic idea and I'm super proud of my bicep/shoulder definition, if only to show those determined to delegate women into the 'thin, slim teen, submissive petite' stereotype how wrong they are when faced with a woman with more than a few muscles.

With that being said, you sure don't see 'shrinking pills' for tall women if tiny is the preferred norm. Nope, 'they' don't care how tall you are, only that you are growing thinner with each bad ad.

Not everybody wants to lose weight, and diet pills are a terrible idea for the maintenance of a healthy body & mind. Not everybody relishes a pack of men standing over them, even if the men are suspiciously effeminate.

I wish I could say feminism wasn't needed anymore, but every time I read the news I think it hasn't finished yet, we haven't reached that point yet. Case in point, even personally I feel it. One time I was walking home at night from work and crossed the street to my apartment. At that same time, a bunch of young men were approaching me. They presumed that I crossed the street to avoid running into them, and yelled to me something in that manner. I didn't bother answering, but thought to myself; If you were smaller, more vulnerable at night with a gender known to attack you, would you avoid them?

I have been groped while pushing open a door at a campus pub before, in broad view of my outraged male and female friends. Trust me, it doesn't engender trust in men, ever. Until you can demonstrate your trustworthiness, feminism will never be unnecessary. Wish it weren't so, but there are a myriad of other issues that I can't even get started on; women's sports, payscales, childcare duties, doctor's assumptions that young women are brainless and too infantile to understand what you want when you say you want to be permanently sterilised...Oh, we've only just begun!

((Please excuse this awful wall of text, Blogger will not let me add paragraphs to avoid the eye-bleed. ARGHHHH)

Special Edition: Badvertising Before and After

Advertising hasn't really changed much--except for the obvious smoking ones. Smoking is bad for you, haven't you heard?

A lot that hasn't changed holds a staunch anti-women view, and is often blatantly misogynistic. As my friend put it, the difference is that today's advertising that preys upon women's insecurities is fluffed up, prettied. It's 'because you're worth it' or ' all your friends do!' or 'lose the weight, gain confidence with the Acaii berry diet, Hydroxycut, Ephedra' when in reality it's all snake oil designed to make women slaves to men/their bodies.

Worried about weight? Feminine 'odors'? Oh, there's a parasitic pill for that, and some bleach that'll help that smell. Now men will love you, but only if you alter yourself in some way first--you're worthless without our products.

Next to come...how today's advertising compares!

In the US drinking a Chelada...

I have discovered a very interesting new drink: the can of Chelada.

I googled and as it turns out the 'traditional' Chelada is beer, salt and lime mixed together. The Chelada I had was from a can, courtesy of Bud Light and Clamato. So my version, for review's sake, is really a 'Michelada' which is tomato/beer/sort of like a beer Bloody Mary or Caesar.

It was huge, contents of can equaled to 2 beer. The tast was, well, quite strange but in a good way. If you are a fan of Clamato, then this is the beer for you! It is Bud Light, Clamato, lime and salt. The only problem I had was the sheer size, and after drinking it everything tasted to me like it had Clamato, and I was drinking Coronas and Miller Light...so yeah. But worth it.

For a can, you're running at $3.25 which is a pretty good deal. Go ahead, try out some of these bizarro beer cocktails-you might just like 'em!

Haines, Alaska

We took advantage of the fabulous long weekend and made the 4-hr trek out to Haines, Alaska.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but as soon as we hit the AK side, the scenery was gorgeous! No more the blasted, withering landscape of the Yukon. There were huge trees (Cottonwood, I believe) that looked healthy, lots of lush undergrowth, and that fresh ocean smell. I was very impressed!

Haines itself is quite teeny but pretty cool. There are a few bars, restaurants and hotels (we almost stayed at the Thunderbird...yeah, next to a transfer station, no thanks!) Luckily the looming and ancient hotel Halsingland has lots of empty rooms, so we got our choice! It was bizarre but so worth it.

It was also Mardi Gras night, which was awesome-tastic! Fun times were had by all. I even bought a bottle of 'Dr.Bronner's 16-uses miracle soap from the hippie store. We had salmon po'boys, fantastic thai (so hot I was sweating/crying) at the Chilkat restaurant/bakery and it was all good...until...

Our tire went flat before dinner! Bummer. We did what any people wanting to have fun would do, abandoned the car, had dinner and went drinking. We walked back to the car the next day and spent ALLL freaking day dealing with it, in a series if misadvetures.

Can't get the tire off? Walk to service station, buy a big tire iron. Walk back to car.

Jump on one side of tire iron, other person heaves other. Tire comes off gradually & reluctantly.

Drive car to service station on spare. Have tire fixed, go to lunch driving on spare.

Pick up tire, remove spare to put tire back on. Car, imperceptably on a hill, lurches forward and falls off tire jack. Axel grinds in gravel.

Struggle for awhile, car lurches threateningly every time. Give up, put spare back on, drive to school parking lot. Take spare off, finally put tire back on and get the hell out--it's 2pm by this time. We still had a 4+hr drive.

ARGHHHH.

Well, I still liked Haines. And I still liked having a long weekend, even if I did get stung by an angry wasp on the last day and my wrist/arm ached and had shooting pains up and down all night. Still aches. Ahhh...

Cranberries: Nature's bounty

It might surprise some people, but it's cranberry time already! We have been casually picking, not intently yet, and we've already gotten enough to make some awesome cranberry muffins.

The trick with cranberries is that conventional wisdom says to pick after a frost, but you don't have to--just check on the ground in any wooded area and you are pretty much sure to find ripe ones. I have found that mossy, treed areas that get little sun seem to have the ripest ones. The sunny areas have ones that are still barely turning red/pink.

Some good cranberry recipes; my favourite are cranberry muffins and cranberry truffles--think of the niche appeal, 'hand-picked!'

http://www.gourmetspot.com/recipeofweek34.htm

I like this one, even though the truffles never hardened and I had to keep them in the freezer!

Eerie Coincidences

I'm revisiting a series of strange coincidences today. Not sure if you recall the 'missing sock' episode of earlier this spring, well I am now experiencing coincidences that are much stranger and creepy--they involve...death!

I recently started a new job, and within a week at that new job the news was passed around that an esteemed colleage had a celebrated a birthday then consequently passed away, doing poorly at a pallative care centre. That news washed over me like much of the overinformation I was exposed to, until I read the email that he died merely a week after his birthday.

That was sad, and that day I was digging around through supplies until I found a clipboard and snatched it up, pretty sweet score. I glanced at my find and noticed it had a name written on it, 'property of' and it was the man who had died that day.

Not willing to risk fate, I put the clipboard back. I'm not that eager to encourage the wrath of angry gods, or anything like that. Creepy.

I'm also on a bit of a Pat Conroy kick, having read The Prince Of Tides and thoroughly enjoyed it. I moved on to Beach Music and read the acknowledgement and thank-you page before the prologue, and came up on a mention of a brother who died by his own hand in 1995. He comitted suicide August 31st, and I started that book yesterday, which was also August 31st.

Another bizarre and eerie coincidence! Now I am set to puzzle over these occurences, and consider what they are trying to tell me. I had a teacher who once postulated that to dream of a death, or a loved one dying, meant that in real life it was a positive, that you would hear from someone you hadn't contacted in ages and that you missed.

I hope it's something similar, and not sinister...